


OVERGROWN GRASS

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Family, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Team as Family, rvb15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 23:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10864650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: Spoilers for RVB15 episode 4.Wash cares. For some reason, he doesn’t seem to mind.





	OVERGROWN GRASS

Retirement is louder than Wash expected.

He never expected retirement in the first place, at least not after his feet first hit the ground in the Great War. He expected a bloody death like the rest of his squad, then a lifetime in jail, then another bloody death, another lifetime jail sentence, and then a period of nebulous years where he just didn’t have the energy to think of it at all. His idea of retirement was solely based off that of his Grandfather, who lived in the middle of nowhere, making moonshine in his basement. Quiet, tired, and a lonely.

Retirement for Wash is none of those things. It’s loud. And it has dinosaurs. Which is honestly the second best surprise life has thrown at him so far.

The first, of course, is the group of idiots in the valley below him. They’re playing capture the flag and from what Wash can tell, neither flag is going to survive the confrontation. Carolina, banned from any competitive events for the safety and wellbeing of everyone involved, is taking a nap on top of Red base. Wash himself, has taken his perch near the top of the valley they’ve decided to call home. Even from the distance he’s sitting, he can still hear Caboose shout as one of the smaller robots snatches a flag from his hands.

Wash doesn’t come up here often. He likes the noise, to the surprise of almost everyone. The constant chatter makes it easy to ground himself in the present. But sometimes, even he has to get away. Which is why only two people know of his favorite hiding spot. One of them is Carolina. The other-

“Brooding again?” Tucker says from behind him. He’s leaning against one of the trees, shoulders relaxed. “Testing out the new “brooding bearded dude” aesthetic.”

“I thought you liked the beard.” If there’s a hint of a whine in Wash’s voice, well, only he has to know.

“Oh, I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna skip out on the goldmine of jokes it’s opened up for me.” Wash knew if Tucker had his helmet off, he’d be able to see him grin. “And pick up lines. Tell me, are you a lumberjack cus I know some wood that might interest you.”

“That was terrible.”

“I’m terrible. You should know this by now.” Tucker was silent then took a step forward. “Mind if I join you or are you in a brooding alone mode?”

Wash knows what question he’s really asking; do you want to be alone. The fact Tucker thinks to ask it is one of the reasons he likes him. He shakes his head and pats the empty ground next to him. “I’m not brooding so go ahead.”

Tucker walks up to him and plops onto the ground, leaning back in a lazy sprawl. He cricks his neck, then looks to Wash. “So if you’re not brooding, what are you doing?”

“Thinking.”

“So brooding.”

“There’s a difference.”

“Not to you.”

“Shut up.”

There is around a minute of silence. Below the Reds have recaptured the flag from one of Freckles’ mini robots and are trying to get it back to their side by attaching it to Simmons and telling him to run. Simmons is making good time, for Simmons that is, and as he sprints, Donut picks up tiny robots and throws them at each other to fend off the opposition. It’s ridiculous.

“What are you thinking about anyway?” Tucker asks, after Sarge punches a robot in the goddamn jaw.

There’s a lot of answers Wash could give him. He’s thinking about how he ended up here, of all places. He’s thinking about how if you told him he’d retire a decade ago, he’d laugh in your face. He’s thinking about how a bunch of idiots below became friends, became family.

But mostly he’s thinking this; how funny it is that that these are the people who made him care. Not like he cared about the people in his squad, or how he cared about the Freelancers.

No, the Reds and Blues made him care like he used to when he was a little kid and saw his Grandfather living alone in a small little house with nothing but the overgrown grass for company.

“I’m thinking about growing out a mustache,” Wash says instead. “To go with the beard.”

Tucker laughs as there is a small explosion from below. Wash watches his shoulders shake, listens to Caboose’s yell of victory and thinks only one thing.

How lucky he is, that these are the people that care about him in return.


End file.
